Chapter Seven


"Why'd you shoot Dinah Lance?" demanded Huntress. Jorge Avila was standing spread-eagle with his back against the wall, the sole of Huntress's boot lodged against his Adam's apple. Both of them were in an alley outside the rear of the Anchor Bar.

"Contract," said Avila between gasps.

"Who ordered the hit?"

"Salazar," squeaked Avila. "Carlos Salazar."

"Your boss?"

"Sí."

"Why?" Huntress barked. "Why Dinah?"

"I don't ask questions," replied Avila icily. "I'm not paid to ask em."

"Where can I find Salazar?"

"He has a place in the Bronx."

Huntress stared daggers into the eyes of Jorge Avila, her best friend's near-assassin. "After what you did to Dinah Lance, I have a good mind to finish you off right here and now…"

Helena … Don't, said Dinah's voice in Huntress's ear.

"Stay out of this," said Huntress to Dinah, teeth clenched.

Don't do this … not for me.

"Who said I was doing it for YOU?" said Huntress. "I'm just takin' out the garbage."

"Who're you talking to?" asked Avila, his curiosity now piqued by this strange woman who was talking to herself as she stood before him.

"Shut up," Huntress shot back.

He's not worth it, said Dinah. He's a little fish … He's obviously taking marching orders from Salazar. Dinah paused. Neither one of us needs a murder on our conscience.

Huntress removed her boot from Avila's throat, reached over, grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed him against a nearby lightpole. "Hug it," she said to Avila.

"Qué?"

"DO IT!" she hissed. With that, he wrapped his arms around the lightpole for dear life. Huntress then produced a pair of plastic handcuffs from her coat pocket and cuffed Avila's wrists together. "Huntress to Oracle, do you copy?" she said into the comm.

"Oracle, here. Over," came the reply.

"Call Reese … tell him I've got the trigger man in the Dinah Lance shooting."


There was not a sight to be seen in the pitch-black darkness of Carlos Salazar's bedroom. The only signs of life were the moans and feminine giggling that accompanied Salazar's lovemaking that night.

"Hello, Salazar," said a third voice -- The Huntress's -- from out of the darkness.

The woman screamed. Salazar reached over and switched on a table lamp that sat atop a nightstand next to his bed. Huntress stood with her arms across her chest at the foot of his bed. He was a tanned, athletic man in his mid-thirties with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and beady dark brown eyes. He was wearing a crimson silk robe and a small gold chain around his neck. The woman who was lying next to him -- Prostitute? Girlfriend? It was impossible to tell -- was wearing a blue silk negligee.

"Who are you? What's the meaning of this?" Salazar demanded.

"Can we talk?" asked Huntress. She then turned her attention to the woman who was lying next to him. "You … Out," she commanded, cocking her head to one side.

The woman hastily jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. As she was leaving, Salazar reached under his pillow, pulled out a 9mm, and leveled it at Huntress.

"We have nothing to talk about," said Salazar.

THIS is fun, Huntress thought.

As if pulled by a string, Salazar's shooting arm was suddenly pulled backwards and pinned against the wall. Try as Salazar could to free it, the gun (and the arm that held it) were stuck tight against the wall behind him.

Salazar stared goggle-eyed at the sight. "What's going on? What're you doing?"

Huntress could only close her eyes and shake her head in bemusement. Dinah, she thought. I keep forgetting she's there. "You'll have to excuse my partner," she said. "She has issues with guns."

"Your PARTNER?!"

Huntress calmly walked over to Salazar, snatched the gun out of his hand, and leveled it at him. "Now," she said. "Why'd you put the contract out on Dinah Lance?"

"I didn't."

"That's not what Avila told me."

"Avila is lying," said Salazar. "He's lying to protect Santiago."

"Who's Santiago? And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Ruben Santiago … is … my superior," said Salazar.

"Top dog?"

"Sí."

"You still haven't answered my question … how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I will be dead soon," said Salazar resignedly. "I have no incentive to lie."

"Waddya mean 'you'll be dead soon'?"

"My life is forfeit … Santiago does not trust me."

"Why not?"

"I would not do what he wanted."

"He wanted you to kill Dinah Lance."

"It was nothing personal," said Salazar. "My orders were to kill a child."

"And Dinah just happened to be the first one to cross Chavez and Avila's path … right?"

"Sí," said Salazar. "Unlike Santiago, I am not a monster."

"So when you wouldn't bite, he made the contract directly with Chavez and Avila … am I getting warm here?"

"Sí."

"Why'd he go after Dinah?"

"He wanted to draw out the Batman," said Salazar. "He blames him for sending him to prison."

Ambitious little snot, thought Huntress. "Tell me about Santiago."

"The man is insane," said Salazar angrily. "He's heavily into mysticism. He has his own personal astrologer. He only carries out jobs on days that the astrologer says are most favorable to him." Salazar paused. "He considers the colors red and black to be unlucky. He won't ride in red or black cars, sit in red or black seats … this goes for theaters, restaurants, airplanes … or wear red or black clothes."

Huntress looked down at the sleeve of her black leather coat and smiled. The color black is about to prove VERY unlucky for Mr. Santiago, she thought.

"And to top it all off, he expects to be called 'Don' Santiago," said Salazar, rolling his eyes. "I'm telling you, the man's seen 'The Godfather' too many times!" Salazar paused. "He's living in a fantasy world. He fancies himself as being this Mafia kingpin."

"How many are there in the Golden Bats? Do you know?"

"Ten … fifteen. A handful."

Not exactly a major gang. "Lie facedown on the floor and put your hands behind your head."

"What?"

"Do it."

Having said this, Salazar got out of bed, lay facedown on the floor, and put his hands behind his head.

"Now," said Huntress. "I want you to count to a thousand … SLOWLY."

"One … two … three…" As Salazar began counting, Huntress swiftly and silently backed out of the bedroom, left the house, and disappeared into the night.